


Cacophony

by angi_df



Category: Original Work
Genre: Between Rage and Serenity, Cognitive Dissonance, Drama, F/F, Female Characters, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Manipulation, One Shot, POV First Person, Sexual Content, Soul-Searching, There Can Be Only One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:24:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7764811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angi_df/pseuds/angi_df
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An allegory of rebellion.<br/>The last-ditch effort towards self-identity through the prism of disguised perspectives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cacophony

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

The steady downpour kept hypnotizing me, pulling closer towards the window, making unable to look away. The rhythm of raindrops over the glass echoed in my ears, blocking any sound of surrounded reality. The cigarette burned into ashes before I could even take a drag. I have been standing there still – the symphony of rain going through my veins.

Miles away I heard harsh voice floated over my shoulder, pulling me of that sweet oblivion; cold hands were tracing my thighs from behind. I don’t like my thoughts being interrupted, moreover in such a primitive way.  
I could feel your lips against my ear, hot breath laden with desire, soaking through and muffling my mind with lust. I reached the hand back, pulling your face forward so I could decipher the words your lips were trying to pour into my head.  
Hearing you talk I could hardly stop my mind transform these words into song lyrics: the usage is different; the meaning all the same.

Sorry to state this, but I’m deeply disappointed with you, my darling.  
Sorry to state this, but you turned out to be as fake as a wedding cake.  
And shame on me for not seeing that coming.

There are times when it is better just to let go, not allowing that penetrate inside, thus one could rarely predict the proper timing to switch that kind of condition off.

Why is it always that painful to accept particular things. Perhaps we are too-not-ready to acknowledge the truth, so well getting used to believing in a miracle, which apparently do not exist. So, we just keep standing stock-still, facing delusion despite letting the reality wake the insight even though leaving us damaged and wasted. No one would like to be damaged. No one likes to be.

Back in the time, someone had asked me, was there anything I could not handle.  
Disappointment. I cannot handle being disappointed with people.

You are not unique, my darling. Well-crafted person, you have created – is, but you have nothing to do with it. You are just an artist always remaining behind his work. Sorry to state this, but somehow you have lost yourself in that very masterpiece instead creating it as a separate one. Frankly, I try my best not to think about those reasons you have had.  
Please, feel free to lose yourself in this perfectly made work of art. I suspect you deserved that after years of agony and pain. Please, die marvelously beaming the passion. Take your time savoring the moment. Rest in peace in the end.

The only thing I feel sad about is that you have been keeping people alongside drowning, which I feel sick witnessing.  
Sorry to state this, but you turned out to be that selfish, which makes you even more disgusting.  
Sorry to state this, but you turned out to be that artificial and insincere, though never been dared to play away from music.

Credulous people, today you welcome them to a prey feast, to dark paradise, with no one left waiting for them on the other side. That sweet melancholic grin is glaring in light of sapphires, diamonds, pyrotechnics and haze imperceptible to the touch or taste. An angel, looking to get fucked hard. Irresistible, bewitching, gorgeous. I would kill you bare handed right here, right now. Disgusting, contemptible, putrid. Unfortunately, hundreds of people are looking at you blinded partly with soffits, partly with your glory.

Like a snake charmer controlling the reptile’s behavior by playing music, your words formed into lyrics cast diabolical spell, forcing to shoot the dope straight to the heart; so, one no longer be able to know what’s right for him, as from that very point one would only live a life, which imitates your art.

I could feel your breath quicken against my lips; you held it for awhile before taking desperate drags of air like if holding onto anything for dear life. I could feel you longing with every fiber of my body. Your sweet lips were brushing over mine. I gently put my palm on your chest. I pushed you back, hearing your soft whimper. “Don’t. Touch me. With these lips, - I whispered barely audible over you thirsting mouth – Full of shit.”

The supposition of being mentally diseased had been chasing you for what felt like an eternity. Being a quick-witted artist, you’ve come using that feeling in a purpose of creation. After all, there’s always a personal experience background behind every work of art and literature.  
Not until it has been too late, it emerged that falling into a reverie you overlooked the disease had dominated you. So, as a cause and effect, firstly you’ve surrendered then started subsisting on a violence diet. Taking into account insatiable lust for pain, moreover being unable to feel such, you managed to come at a behavioral pattern, which served to haze one’s mind: petrify it and give way to despair. Thus, your perverted inner self became more and more fulfilled every time you felt someone else’s sorrow.

The action having been quite harmless at first, turned into something deadly dangerous through years. Though, at the very beginning that was not more than blissful curiosity, which has provoked you. Empowered NLP technique, based on making the people think they could feel you; giving them an illusion both them and you shared that inner world, filled with emotions of love and hate, hope and disillusionment, fluff and angst, euphoria and agony. All that have started with a mysterious wave of such a state, which could be only described like ‘How is it even possible you know me so well, I can literally feel you inside after only listening to one song you’ve sang; How is it even possible you and I being so alike, I can literally catch your feelings experienced through a lifetime; How did I get to know you so well, when I was not supposed to’.  
Right at that moment, people felt prey to you, being trapped and captured. Right at that moment people no longer belonged to themselves, being unaware of that disgusting skeleton in your closet. Something no one knew about, some transmitting virus strain, some sick secret devoured from within, leaving them miserable; making abandon every single thing that once could have brought happiness.

That was who you have become, with no way turning back, no matter how all that had started and felt like in the very beginning. The ugly, sick monster behind such a charming voice, such lovely green eyes, such a beautiful name. Pure perfection. Nevertheless, nobody would ever be there, coming up on the heels to stop you; to save you.

How come no one has seen that, paralyzed and paying attention only to the colors, judging you like a picture book as if having forgotten how to read.  
Chef d’oeuvre. You indisputably succeeded deserving a raise in applause, which indeed was appearing more and more recently.

Pressed against the window, you moaned softly nibbling my earlobe.  
"Don't leave," you breathed, pleading, in my ear.  
You embraced me, pulling in closer, so close it hurt my ribs. Being caught with your leg crunching over my waist, I leaned a bit back fixing my eyes on yours, foggy and half closed. "..feeling hot to the touch..say you’ll miss me the most..miss me so much.." a noiseless disjointed quote slipped from my lips. A mash of terror and shame appeared in your widened eyes in front of mine. Slowly I moved the hand up your thigh, wrapped above me, crashing into you and pressing my leg tight to the center. A gasp broke from your parted lips. Craning the neck and closing the eyes, you threaded your fingers through my hair, pulling my face into yourself, longing for the warmth of hot lips on that stone-cold ivory skin. I instinctively slipped my right hand under your shirt, running the fingers along your breast, barely touching the nipple tightened under the heat of my fingertips. With my left hand still at your thigh, I started teasing you agonizingly slow, moving the fingers closer to the lower abdomen. I swear I could feel you were nearly ready to pass out against my leg pressed hard between your tights.

It is not like I was always that way, but let's face it – God does not exist, the World itself runs the system, and behind this system there are people. People are in charge of everything happening; so, what's the point of being an actor when you can be a director or a scriptwriter. It's all about the choice.  
I have chosen to treat you like you deserved to be treated; like you have been treating people all these times: achingly slow; each and every single breath extinguishing the poise inside of you.

Three turtles hold the World, they used to believe. Frankly, not an-out-of-time-theory, as there have always been only two turtles, which were going from one extreme to another. That is actually not way too difficult to follow once having comprehended the principal basis, starting with the primary postulate of coherence between right and wrong with further going down the steps embracing every single concept of existence.

The mix of erratic breaths, weak moans and nails under my skin, you were turning into a disordered mess, too overwhelmed to grasp the profound connection of the song lyrics’ to your own life. Being over drunk with desire, you started rocking against me slowly. I released my hand from under your shirt and stopped your movements placing it on your hip. "..need you, baby, like I breathe you, baby, fucking need you, baby, more, more, more, more.." you hissed at my mumbling.  
I gently moved your leg back, steadying it on the floor. “Offer me some cheaper feelings, as I’m afraid I don’t have any change,” I whispered every syllable into your lips before kissing you hard.

I never looked back not willing to face the pain of loss inside those green eyes.  
By then I didn’t realize I’d never come back.  
We were hiding in the game we played, vainly believing in safety found inside, having lost the satellite several lifetimes ago.  
Touché.

Excuse me while I ignore the world and disappear into an astral projection of surreal abyss. As long as I’ve known myself, I remember rarely doing something that could be called spontaneous. Rarely. Never. I don’t remember any time leaving myself to the mercy of fate when got really fucked up with something. Like throwing that part of life away replacing it with something vague though vivid and with not giving a damn about what would happen next.  
Talking of freedom itself as well as the freedom of mind, I barely allowed such surge to penetrate through that perfectionistic shell of my existence. Hence, after years of self-control and restriction I came to the implicit consciousness of inner exhaustion and the disinclination of letting this shit fly with me anymore further. The feeling transmuted into distinct and intense decision – I’d better face the Devil than proceed to deal with this disgusting social model called Life. And for whatever reason, all of a sudden there was nothing to lose anymore.

Feeling the darkness enveloping me, drowning in it completely, I could hardly realize a thing. Who was I; where was I; what was going on; what were those sounds, I could not hear nor focus at. The darkness swallowed me deeply inside so that I could barely breathe. There was nothing. Deep-dark-nothing. I might be inside that nothingness for some time now, as I could feel completely fit in and got used to. There was no rush, no tomorrow; no regrets, no sorrow. A slap rapidly being placed on my left cheek turned my attention to the very fact that I did have a face. At the same moment, that sweet silence became to fade away so lightly as if the gentle wind would blow a veil off of the face. What was that voice behind the darkness molten down far away; what were those words that tried to reach my ears yet unsuccessfully. I did not have any wish to leave that state nor to settle in; feeling the reality broken in step by step, I felt dizzy. I could feel my senses slowly coming back, making me realize I actually had a body. That voice. That distant voice was trying to reach my system. I tried to focus on that sound, but heard nothing that reminded the words, just a dull noise echoing inside and making my head pulsing.

Another slap on my right. My face was burning. Someone was screaming now. Searching inside surrounded darkness I tried hard to find the sense respondent to vision. That was evident my eyes closed, and I had to open them to stop that noise coming from screaming. I could not stand that sound. Suddenly something tough clung onto my throat, pulling me closer towards the sound of that voice. Still drowned in darkness, being unable to move and fight back, it occurred to me that I had no choice but to obey. Dozens of needles pierced my neck; the pain was spreading up my throat and further, filling the emptiness inside my head with fury. It clutched at harder, making me almost incapable of breath. Pain and fury inflated my body, burning the darkness to ashes. A sudden electroshock impulse transfixed me like a spear – my bottom lip was bitten, bleeding. ‘Don't you fucking dare to die like this!’ the hot breath was growling into my mouth. ‘Don't. You. Fucking. Dare.’ I could feel my head rapidly pulled back by the hair. Replaced by lips sucking fervently on my neck, the sharp-nailed hand released my throat.  
I inhale loudly and half-open my eyes. Distant lights begin to arise leaving painfully bright spots in front of me. A blink. Two. The intense stare opposite me. Three. Four. The infinite grey-blue eyes dissipate the fog around. Five. Six. The hands pull my hair harder. Seven. ‘Am I dead?’ I hear myself mumble in a hoarse voice. A sparkle flashing in these grey-blue eyes fells like home.

Without breaking the gaze I slowly trace this smooth cheek with my fingertips, feeling my own mouth form a calm smile.  
“I’ve got you” this velvet voice fills every cell of me with euphoria. Sweet, comforting silence breaks in. There’s nothing else around, aside these perfect grey-blue eyes.

_Wherever the life, whatever the world_  
_Remember the promise both of us hold_  
_We promised each other to find very state_  
_Despite anything to look for the fate_  
_Whatever it’s heaven, whatever it’s hell_  
_Always to call for each other’s name_


End file.
